


Teach me how to dance?

by versti_fantur



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, robbie used to be a ballroom dancer, sport wants to learn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versti_fantur/pseuds/versti_fantur
Summary: Robbie used to ballroom dance when he was young, Sportacus wants to learn, so Robbie begrudgingly complies. Feelings happen.
Relationships: Robbie Rotten/Sportacus
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	Teach me how to dance?

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i know nothing about dancing and i was too tired to research so sorry for any inaccuracies

“Teach me how to dance? Please?”

“What?” Robbie hadn’t been paying attention to their conversation at all, but suddenly he wished he had. How the hell had they moved on to _dancing_? “I don’t dance.”

Sportacus’ brow furrowed as his head tilted to the side, “But you just said you won ballroom competitions when you were younger?” Robbie’s face paled. He definitely shouldn’t have mentioned _that_ to Sportacus. Now he’d never let it go.

“Why can’t you ask whatshername- uh, Pinky for help?” He straightened his waistcoat, as Sportacus shook his head, rolling his eyes like Robbie had said something painfully incorrect, which he took as a personal offence.

“Stephanie does _modern_ dance, not ballroom,” he explained, “and she’s too short to be my dance partner—she’s only 8, remember?”

Groaning internally, Robbie drew himself up to his full height, rather taller than Sportacus, and smirked. “What if _you’re_ too small for _me_?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Robbie!” Sportacus laughed, taking Robbie’s unwitting hand in his own, and placing the other on his waist. “See! We fit together just fine!” Robbie’s nose twitched as he processed the sudden increase in physical contact, and he froze, increasingly aware of the heat radiating from where Sportacus’ hand rested against his waist. Swallowing thickly, he hopped backwards, out of Sportacus’ grasp.

“Fine! I’ll teach you. But you have to do _everything_ I tell you, no excuses!”

Sportacus smiled warmly, even the ends of his moustache quirking upwards to match. “Thanks Robbie!!”

“We’ll start tomorrow, first thing—11am. Wear something-” he glanced disdainfully at Sportacus’ hero uniform, “-more appropriate for dancing.” Sportacus nodded, before dashing away, back-flipping over a wall gleefully as Robbie slumped against the tree behind him. Why did he agree to _this_ of all things? He did have one advantage though; Sportacus had to do everything he said, no exceptions…

Well, he could work with that.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he began the (too long) walk back to his lair, a plan already formulating in his mind. He ignored the small voice asking _why_ exactly Sportacus needed to learn to dance so urgently. That couldn’t be important. Right?

~~

Sportacus showed up early, because of course he did. 10:58, and he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, watching the seconds tick by on the clock in his arm bracers, and knocking sharply as soon as it clicked over to 11am.

Robbie should’ve told him a later time. He’d barely dragged himself out of bed (or rather, armchair) and made himself a coffee laden with enough sugar to paralyse a horse, topped off with a veritable mountain of whipped cream, and some sprinkles for good measure—if he was going to dance, he’d need the energy only a sugar rush could provide. But as always, his time management was terrible, and he wasn’t even dressed by the time Sportacus arrived.

Grumbling, he hurried to his disguise machine, forgoing the usual selection speech as he’d chosen his outfit the night before: a purple, sparkly ballroom dancing suit, with sequins on the coattails and a rather dashing bedazzled bow tie. No one could say Robbie Rotten didn’t have a fantastic sense of style. (Well, technically they could, but they’d rather quickly end up in the bottom of one of his renowned “Huge Really Deep Scary Evil Master Villain Traps” AKA a hole in the ground covered in leaves).

With a quick pull of a lever and a spin around, he stood fully dressed, smoothing out the hips of the outfit with a deft brush of his hand. He hadn’t worn this outfit in years, and it felt oddly nostalgic to put it on again.

“Come in!” he yelled, and soon the familiar thudding sound of someone coming through the entrance pipe echoed through the lair. _Here goes nothing_.

Whatever he had prepared to say died on his lips as Sportacus landed on his feet just in front of Robbie, dressed in an alarmingly similar outfit to him, only in blue and white. Robbie had to admit, it did suit him rather nicely, even if he didn’t have a traditional dancer’s physique. But he found he didn’t mind Sportacus’ muscles- What?? Why was he still thinking about that? He had a plan to put into motion after all! Clearing his throat he stepped backwards, reaching for the stereo he had set up.

“You’re going to have to follow, I can only lead.” He fiddled with a few buttons, feeling Sportacus’ gaze on his back. He was lying, of course. A professional like him knew how to take both roles easily, but he didn’t want to give Sportacus the satisfaction of being in charge. Not now, not ever.

But Sportacus didn’t seem to mind, nodding enthusiastically as the music started up, soft piano notes filling the lair (Robbie always prided himself on how lovely the acoustics sounded).

“Take my hand,” Robbie instructed, and guiding Sportacus’ other hand to settle on his waist. “And when I say, step backwards, to the side, and together again.” Mild panic followed by determination flittered over Sportacus’ face as Robbie began to count, and after the first step, he tripped over his own feet. “Please try and keep up, Sportatrip,” Robbie sighed, reverting them to their starting position. "Let’s go again, but slower.”

This time, Sportacus managed to keep his balance, leaning on Robbie’s a little, and looking down as he focused on keeping his steps accurate.

“Look up. You’ve got it.”

Sportacus tentatively raised his head, making eye contact that Robbie instantly regretted, because of the tingles it sent down his spine. This wasn’t supposed to be happening!! He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it!

He must’ve paused for a moment, because Sportacus squeezed his side reassuringly, indicating they should continue, and Robbie had a hard time looking away from his inquiring eyes. They were blue, he realised. He liked them. Damn it to hell, what was happening to him? He needed to put his plan into action, right now.

Except he couldn’t remember it at all.

The distraction of Sportacus’ hands on his skin through the thin cotton outfit, combined with a level of physical closeness he hadn’t felt in years (one that Sportacus seemed to be inching closer with every minute that passed). His head spun, and it took him a moment to realise the rest of him was too. They had deviated from the simple square they had been in before and now waltzed around the room, Sportacus’ face showing his determination to do it right. He certainly had the stamina for dancing, and his coordination wasn’t bad either and Robbie-

Well, he couldn’t stop.

The more he danced, the more he could avoid acting on the strange new thoughts whirling about in his head. (Were they new though? Or had he just ignored them for so long they had only just been allowed to surface?)

His cheeks were surely flushed, and he quickly tired (he hadn’t danced in a long time), and even Sportacus’ face was eventually tinged pink from exhaustion. But he couldn’t let them stop, he couldn’t.

Until the music ended, and Sportacus exhaled deeply. “That was great Robbie! Thank you!” Robbie gazed at him wordlessly, his eyes flicking down for a split second as Sportacus licked his lips, and mourning the loss of contact as Sportacus pulled away. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Robbie replied without thinking, watching wordlessly as Sportacus hopped back up the entrance pipe as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving the lair empty and silent, and Robbie standing in the dim light.

As he collapsed into his fluffy armchair, and wrapped himself in his blanket, he let himself acknowledge how utterly screwed he was.

**Author's Note:**

> love yall <3  
> comments and kudos make me uwu
> 
> idek if this is coherent i havent even read through it to check-


End file.
